He'd been lost in his own thoughts, trying to clear his head, while rolling the cigar back and forth between his lips. But that sound had snapped him out of it. Logan got up, rest his cigar on the edge of the windowsill, not wanting to stink up the house. Going down to her room he listened, her breathing said she wasn't asleep. Softly he knocked on the door. "Marie?"
Logan knew she didn't sleep naked and didn't bother to wait for an answer. He brushed the door opened and took a few steps inside. For a moment it was deja vu of a night so many years ago. Only he'd been the one in the bed and she'd been the one to creep into his room, worried because he was having a nightmare. To this day that effected him profoundly. Someone was worried about him, cared about him. As far back as he could remember, there had never been a single soul that had done that.
Marie had been acting strange, barely around him and when she was she left quickly. It wasn't until this moment he began to realize it felt as if she were avoiding him.
The closer he got he could pick up on a few things. The scent of perspiration, so she had either had a nightmare or.. well she hadn't made the noises necessary for it to be the other. Her heart was pounding and he could smell fear. Logan reached the foot of the bed and stopped, letting his hand rest over her calve, covered by the sheet and tilted his head.
"What's wrong darlin'?" His voice was smooth and gentle. The bed dipped as he sat on the corner of the bed. "Talk ta me Marie.. I can fix whatever it is." Logan tried not to notice how warm her leg was under his hand, even through the sheet, how toned the muscle was. But it did no good, it had already made him think about how tightly she could wrap those legs around him. Quickly he shook his head and felt like an asshole, here she was in turmoil and he was thinking about things he really shouldn't be.